Read Online Songs of Blue and Gold by Deborah Lawrenson - Free Book Online Page A

some kindof understanding. Or perhaps it was all just a channel to be able to think about her mother as she had once been, not as she was at the end.
    Melissa let herself into the apartment, and quickly put on another sweater. It was only nine-thirty, but the night air already had a chilly edge and there did not seem to be any means of heating the rooms. She moved a table lamp to the small dining table, and raised it on a pile of books and information leaflets from various holiday letting companies. Then she fetched her own books from where they were scattered around the sofa. The thick biography of Julian Adie by Stephen Mason was open with a coffee mug resting on the pages, making her slightly shocked at her own slovenliness. It was now frilled with strips of paper marking relevant passages, some with scribbled notes on.
    â€˜To Elizabeth, always remembering Corfu, what could have been and what we must both forget.’
    The words were constantly in her head like the nagging refrain of a song. And still the same questions. What must be forgotten? The sense of regret in the words was overwhelming.
Why
had she never said anything about Julian Adie before? She had obviously known him, and, the inscription implied, shared an intimate understanding. But Melissa could not find one mention of Elizabeth in the biography, nor in Adie’s own autobiographical accounts of his life and travels.
    The nineteen sixties, the photographs had probably been taken, Bill had said. The biography certainly placed Adie on Corfu at various times from the mid-thirties right up to the seventies. So it was possible, but no more than that. It was as though their connection really had been forgotten, excised from both lives.
    Although, had Elizabeth really never mentioned Julian Adie before? Melissa’s initial reaction was to be sure she had not, but had she simply never heard her, switching off from the flow because she thought she knew all the stories of her mother’s life? So why then, when Elizabeth was only so intermittently lucid, when she seemed barely to know who Melissa was, let alone anyone else, did she press the book of poems on her so urgently?
    Why was this so important? What was Elizabeth’s connection with Julian Adie and what was Melissa supposed to do with it if she found it? How did Elizabeth fit into his story? So far it was all impressions and conjecture. She needed to clear it all from her mind, in the only way she knew, before it overwhelmed her.
    Melissa opened the new notebook she had brought, and started to write.

II
    THE SEA AND the light constantly moving together, interweaving and patterning, made Melissa aware of being alive, of blood coursing around the body, sun on her arms as she stood at the open window. It had been a good night; she had only woken twice. There seemed to be a slight easing of the spiritual numbness which had become habitual.
    Perhaps putting her thoughts down on paper had helped. That had preserved them but put a stop to their noise in her mind.
    She was at the tourist office when it opened at nine.
    â€˜Do you have a detailed map of this area?’ she asked the man at the desk. He was dark, with well-muscled shoulders and a four-day beard which did nothing to diminish his good looks.
    â€˜A map of the island?’
    â€˜Just this part. I’d like as many details as possible. The biggest scale you have.’
    He came round to the front of the desk, and led her past stands of hanging shell and bead necklaces and displays of snorkelling equipment. The way he moved implied he waswell used to being cock of the walk. He pulled a couple of maps off a book rack. ‘We have these. The whole island – we don’t have a special one for here.’
    â€˜Can I see inside?’
    He opened both. They were road maps, showing few landmarks smaller than mountains.
    â€˜Do you have a walking map?’
    He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, no. We’ve sold them